


Taking Care of of the Job

by Dreaming_of_a_Bright_Sky



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Future Fic, M/M, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 21:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreaming_of_a_Bright_Sky/pseuds/Dreaming_of_a_Bright_Sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caught between the packs, Stiles cuts himself off from everybody in Beacon Hills and becomes something he'd never dreamed of being; a hunter. Events lead him back home, and force him to work with both packs in order to catch a rogue were on a killing spree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life is what you make of it

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen wolf or the characters!

  
  
  Stiles pulled his gun, sighting down the barrel at the werewolf.  He fired calmly, bullet flaring blue where it struck.  The creature dropped, momentum sliding it almost to his feet. He kicked it onto it's back, placing another bullet right between it's eyes. There was a click as he activated his communicator. “It's done.”  
  
  “Roger that. Pick up in ten.”  
  
  As he waited, he contemplated the circumstances that led him to this place in life. If he'd been told ten years ago that he'd be a hunter, he'd have thought the person was insane.  Now it's just what he does. He has nothing else.  
  
  Stiles survived high school in Beacon Hills, and when he went to college, he'd thought he was done with that world. It turns out that once you're a part of it, you can never go back. A series of murders and animal attacks started his junior year at Cal Tech. It was too familiar. Using his knowledge he tracked the wolves and stumbled across a group of hunters.

  
  The group was disciplined and highly organized. They were what hunters should be; trained, controlled, and surgically precise with their kills.  When they came across Stiles, they took him to their headquarters to question him.  They wanted to know why he was out there and if he was associated with the rogue wolf. His experience with hunters in the past didn't exactly incline him to be trustful of them, so he kept his mouth shut. He was pleasantly surprised when they didn't resort to torture.  
  
  He sat in the sterile room for what felt like forever when a man walked in. He stood in front of Stiles and then wolfed out. His eyes flashed gold, teeth and claws elongating, and sprouted fur. Stiles reached into his pocket, readying the wolfsbane spray that he'd created. The man shifted back and sat down. He glanced at the spray. “Nice. Has it been tested?”  
  
  “The spray itself? Yes. This spraying mechanism? No. I had to work with what I could find.”  
  
  “Fatal?”  
  
   “Only if swallowed, but it will incapacitate a werewolf quite nicely.”  
  
  “Why didn't you spray me?”  
  
  “You were obviously a test. I'm guessing to see how I reacted. Probably to find out if I knew about werewolves, though I suspect that you already knew that I did. Releasing me after a reveal of that nature might be problematic. So probably, it was a test to see if I'd attack you. I was checked for weapons when I was brought here and that was left in my pocket. So you had to have guessed that I knew about werewolves, but you weren't sure if I was a hunter. Which if I'm being honest, I thought you guys were hunters. So what are you?”  
  
  “We're hunters.”  
  
  Stiles was stunned. “You're a werewolf and you're working for the hunters? Holy crap. How screwed up is that?”  
  
  The guy tilted his head; probably listening to his heartbeat or getting his scent. “Bad experience with hunters, I take it?”  
  
  “You know, this has been fun and all, but if you're not going to torture or beat me, I'd like to be leaving now.” Stiles stood up and tried the door. It opened. He turned back to the wolf. “You seem like a smart enough guy. Hanging with a bunch of hunters probably isn't a good move. I'm not sure what your deal is, but if you want to live, working with the enemy isn't the best plan.”  
  
  Stiles found his way out unhindered. Unfortunately, he realized that he had no idea where he was. The werewolf came outside. “Need a ride?”  
  
  “Sure.”  
  
  The ride back was uncomfortable, though the guy made an attempt at conversation. “What's your major?”  
  
  “Environmental science. I thought about microbiology but I hate chemistry.” Stiles looked at the man from the corner of his eyes. “What's your name? I'm calling you 'the guy' in my head and it might be nice to call you something else.”  
  
  “Tim. You can call me Tim.”  
  
  “Riiiight. By putting it that way, I'm assuming that's an alias. But fine. Tim.  So, Tim. What's a werewolf doing hanging around the folks who slaughter your kind?”  
  
   “Let me ask one more question before I answer. Where have you encountered hunters before?”  
  
  Stiles thought about it and weighed if he though supplying that answer might cause problems for the packs. “Beacon Hills.”  
  
  Tim nodded as if he understood. “Ah! The Argents. You been running with the Hale pack or the McCall pack?”  
  
  “Um. Both. Neither. I left them behind when I came to CalTech.”  
  
  Tim sized him up and looked like he was thinking. “Why did you leave?”  
  
  “What is this, twenty questions?”  
  
  The man shrugged. “It's just a question. You don't have to answer.”  
  
  “I'll tell you what. Answer one of my questions and I'll answer one of yours. Deal?”  
  
  “Deal. So what's your question?”  
  
  “Why are you running with hunters?”  
  
  “We're a bit different than the Argents. We're not a family of hunters, we're more militaristic. We're a bit more disciplined and we've got several werewolves on board. A few other things, too, but I'm not at liberty to speak about them. We have one thing in common: We take out monsters that prey on others.”  
  
  “Define monster.”  
  
   Tim thought about it. “A monster kills because it can. 'Monsters' aren't defined by species. It's defined by actions. Human's can, and often are, worse monsters than werewolves. It's just that when a werewolf crosses that line, they're capable of great destruction.”  
  
  “Alright. My turn. I left because I was tired of being torn between the two packs. That, and the fact that I have this tendency to fall for totally unattainable people.”  
  
  From that point, it was a forgone conclusion. Stiles couldn't help but to get involved. When he wasn't in classes, he was training.  That was mandatory. No matter what else you brought to the table, you had to have physical combat training. Stiles learned to fight and how to handle a gun. He never got bulky like some of the guys. He supposed that he could if he wanted to work out all the time and down protein drinks, but that wasn't important to him. Instead, he was all compact muscles and slim lines.  
  
  When not in combat, he still had a tendency to flail, but in battle he was all efficient motion. Here, he was an asset and not just a fragile human. They used his abilities to research, but he also became respected for field missions too.  
  
   He was snapped from his thoughts when he felt the back of his neck prickle. Another wolf had snuck up behind him. Before he could pull his gun, the wolf raked his claws across his back, ripping right through his protective gear. Grimacing in pain, Stiles yanked his knife free from it's sheath.  He rolled and ducked under the next swing. Dodging under and thrusting up, he caught the wolf in the ribs with the aconite covered knife. The werewolf howled and folded over.  
  
  The wolf wasn't going down without a fight. It swung out and Stiles, slowed by the wounds to his back, couldn't move away fast enough. The wolf caught him right across his hip, one claw actually sticking and breaking off in the bone.  Bleeding heavily, Stiles fell and managed to finally pull his gun. He fired everything he had left into the wolf and it went down, twitching.  
  
  He managed to shove himself away from the jerking wolf with his good leg. He clicked his communicator. “Need medical, ASAP. Two wolves for disposal. I repeat, need medical.”  
  
  “Roger. Pick up is almost there. They have been alerted, and medical will be on standby for your arrival.”  
  
  He couldn't reach his back to stop the bleeding and the wound on his hip was too deep to do much. He laid there, bleeding on the forest floor, and listened to the RV's approach. There was a flurry of activity as his wounds were tended and somebody administered morphine. He drifted off into a medicated haze.  
  
  When he woke up, he was in medical. He was tipped on his side, something wedging him up from behind. There wasn't beeping, so he knew that it couldn't have been that bad. There was, however, pain. He must have made a sound because Sara, the nurse, was soon standing there. “Heya sugar. Glad to see those peepers. Betcha need something to take the edge off, huh?”  
  
  She gave Stiles some meds through the IV, and then helped him sip water from a  straw. When he was comfortable and settled, she spoke again. “You did a right good job this time, you did. Plenty of stitches on your back and that hip wound is deep. You've been put on the inactive roster, darling.”  
  
  The inactive roster was for those who'd been hurt bad enough to put them out of fighting shape for the foreseeable future. At least he hadn't been put on the 'removed' list. That would have meant that his injury was so severe that he'd never see field duty again. “How long?”  
  
  “Don't know, sugar. You'll have to ask the doctor. Several months is my guess.”  
  
  Thus started one of the most miserable months of his life. He spent a full week in medical, letting the wounds properly heal and to make sure that he hadn't turned. They'd developed a vaccine to prevent humans from turning, but it didn't work in about 15% of cases. Then he spent a few weeks in therapy where he essentially had to relearn how to use his leg.  
  
  After that, it was several months of healing. He spent the time helping the research department or hanging with the analysts. He'd only been back on duty for a few days when Tim showed up with a new assignment.  
  
  “Stiles. I don't like this much, but I have no choice. Something's going on in Beacon Hills and with the Argents retired, there's no one in the area to handle it. The local packs refused to allow a group of us down there, but they would allow you. Only you.  
   I don't like sending you solo. I'd prefer to send you in tandem with a group, to be honest. You still haven't regained full mobility and the docs say you might not. But, they've cleared you. I don't like it, but it's what I've got to work with.  I've made it clear to both the McCall and Hale packs that you are fresh off medical leave and that if I'm being forced to send you in alone, they need to provide you back up.  
   If you run into anything that you can't handle, call me. You got that?”  
  
  Stiles stared at him. “You contacted Scott and Derek?”  
  
   “First name basis, huh? You've never talked much about the packs. I knew that you'd run with them, but you actually know them personally, don't you? They acted it too.”  
  
  “Scott was my best friend growing up. I knew him long before he was bitten. Derek... Well, he and I saved each other a few times but that's about it.”  
  
  Tim watched him. “You know I can hear your heart, right?”  
  
  “I'm very well aware of that, and what I said was true. That's all it was.”  
  
  Tim raised his hand in surrender. “Ok. Dropping it.” He tossed a set of keys at Stiles. “One of the SUVs. Bring it back in one piece.”  
  
   “I'm sending you with full gear and enough to equip anyone who's helping you. Don't go crazy. Take back up, do the full fact finding routine, and send everything back for analysis. Standard operating rules apply.”

   
  With a salute, Tim walked away. Stiles blew out a sigh. “Guess I need to find my duffel bag.”


	2. Coming back is never easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen wolf or the characters!

  


    Not much had changed in Beacon Hills. A few businesses were different downtown, but it looked pretty much the same. Stiles wanted to stop by and see his dad. He wasn't sure how he'd explain being there, but he'd come up with something.

 

   He was shocked when he saw the house. The lawn was overgrown, the paint was peeling, and the roof was in obvious need of repair. The cruiser wasn't in the driveway, so he figured that his dad was still at work. Stiles spotted a kid mowing his lawn a few doors down. He walked over and waved until he got his attention. “How much to mow that lawn?” He pointed at the yard.

 

  “That's not a lawn, dude. That's a jungle!”  
  
  “How much to get you to mow it?”  
  
  “Fifty big ones, and a new mower if that crap breaks mine.”  
  
  “Deal.” Stiles handed him the money. “Let me know if you have any problems.”  
  
  He walked back to the house and let himself in. It was weird being there, and it felt like he was trespassing. The inside was clean enough, though there were take out cartons stacked by the sink. “Geez, dad. Way to take care of your heart.”  
  
  Curious, he popped upstairs to check out his old room. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust, and nothing looking disturbed from the day he'd last been there. His dad hadn't changed it since he'd gone off to college. Stiles had half expected him to fill it up with storage stuff, but he hadn't. It's like he'd held that room open for Stiles, always hoping that his son would come home.  
  
   Not wanting to startle his dad, he went back outside to wait. He was sitting in the porch when a car pulled up.

 

  “Hey, Scott.”  
  
  “I heard that you'd be back. Some guy named Tim called. He wanted a whole team of hunters sent down, but Derek balked at that. Then the guy mentioned you. Like I'd toss you out, even if you have become a hunter.”  
  
  “Yeah. I suppose Allison pretty much cured you of that. How's she doing, by the way?”  
  
  Scott still got kind of goofy when it came to Allison. “She's doing great, man. She's subbing at the high school, and teaches weekend archery classes at the range.”  
  
  “Cool.” Stiles gave Scott a level look. “ Let's get this out of the way first. I'm still not choosing. You either accept that, or you leave me the hell alone.”  
  
  “Yeah, about that.” Scott shuffled a little, but then looked right back at Stiles. “It wasn't fair what I did to you back then. I shouldn't have tried to make you choose. I know that you just cared about all of us, and there was no way that you could pick and choose who you'd save or help.  I just wanted you to be mine, my pack. It was selfish and I'm sorry.”  
  
  “Who helped you come up with that speech? Allison?”  
  
  “Partly. I've thought about it too. Isaac got caught in the tug of war between the packs. Derek was pretty cool about it and didn't push anybody, but I was kind of possessive. Isaac got sick of it too, but he let it rip him up pretty bad. A few years ago he had a complete breakdown and I finally realized what an ass I'd been. I understood why you'd walked away rather than get stuck in the middle.”  
  
  “Isaac ok?”  
  
 “Yeah. He almost went rogue and it took Derek and I, together, to get him back under control. The packs have been working together a lot more since then.”  
  
  “So, I'm hearing about a attacks. What's up with that?”  
  
  “We think it's some sort of were cat. Jackson actually saw it one day and he swears it looked like a leopard, so we're going with were-leopard for now. It's hurt a few people.  It seems to like stalking the victim and making them run scared. Nobody's been killed, but it's put a few people in intensive care. Local reports are calling them 'cougar attacks'.”  
  
  Scott dropped onto the porch next to Stiles, and the wood groaned alarmingly. The beta made a face. “This place is in pretty bad shape, Stiles. Are you going to fix it up?”  
  
  “I have to talk to dad. I think that he should at least get it fixed. I'll hire somebody if he wants.”   
  
  “Boyd's running a company. He builds and repairs houses. You might try giving him a call.”  
  
  “Sounds good. So what's everybody else doing these days?”  
  
  “I'm still working with Deaton. Because of my experience and him putting in a good word for me, I went to veterinary school. I'm actually a licensed vet now!”  
  
  “Congrats! That's awesome.”  
  
  “Thanks! Jackson's a lawyer. No big shock there. It fits his personality well. He and Lydia got married. Did you know that?”  
  
  “No, but I'm not surprised. What's Lydia up to these days?”  
  
  “She's some sort of math genius. She's affiliated with some think tank, but works from home.  Danny's a programmer. I told you about Boyd, so who am I missing?”  
  
  “Erica and Isaac. What are they doing?”  
  
  “Oh! Yeah. Isaac took over the funeral parlor. Erica works with Boyd.”  
  
  “She's doing construction? I didn't see that one coming.”  
  
  “She's pretty good, actually. She runs around and tells people what to do on site. I think she gets a kick out of it!”  
  
  Stiles had put this one off. “What's Derek been doing, besides being a broody alpha?”  
  
  “He's still broody, but I guess that we've gotten used to it.  You're not going to believe what he does now, though?”  
  
  “What? Wait, let me guess. Dog groomer?” Scott laughed. “Does he work with Boyd? No? Bouncer? Ok, I'm done guessing. What's he doing with himself?”  
  
  “He's a cop!”  
  
  “A cop. Seriously? I know he's still here in Beacon Hill's, so he's got to be a deputy.”  
  
  “Yeah. Your dad personally trained him. It's likely that Derek will be sheriff when your dad retires.”  
  
  “Wow. Holy crap. My dad trained Derek? Why didn't anyone mention that to me?”  
  
  “Maybe because you almost never talked to anyone anymore, and you _never_ came back.”  
  
  “I refuse to feel bad about that, Scott. Last time we spoke you were still pushing me to take sides. There was no way I could stay here.”  
  
  “I know.  I acted like a complete dumb-ass.  Allison was mad at me over that. She threatened my manhood with her bow.”  
  
  Stiles reflexively winced. “Ouch! That's harsh.”  
  
  “I deserved it.”  
  
  “Well...probably.” Stiles gave Scott a smile. “Thank her for me, will you?”  
  
  “Oh, no! I'm not encouraging her to do that again.” Scott stood and dusted himself off.  “I've got to run. My shift at the clinic starts in half an hour.”  
  
  Stiles stood and offered Scott a hug. The werewolf hugged him back and gave him a thump on the back. “Ow. Dude. Watch it, okay? Still sore.”  
  
  “Sorry!” A worried look crossed his face. “Do you have a place to stay?  I'm sure Allison won't mind if you come stay with us.”  
  
   “I'm good. I have a hotel room already booked. Thanks though!”  
  
  “Ok. Just call if you need anything. You have my number?”  
  
  “Yeah, I've got it.”  
  
  “Stop by tomorrow. I've got the day off. We can go over the attacks.”  
  
  “Sounds good. I'll order Chinese food. That place down on main still open?”  
  
  “Still there. Same people and everything. See you tomorrow then!” He bounded off.  
  
  Stiles looked around and sighed. He could hear the lawnmower out back, and he wondered what in the hell was going on with his dad. The kid finished mowing with no damage to his mower, but Stiles tipped him because it took him longer than he'd expected. He'd have to get the rake and clean up the trimmings, because they were so thick that it will kill the grass otherwise. It was something to occupy himself with while he waited.  
  
  He raked the clippings up and dumped the in the area that used to be a compost pile. This was the most physical work he'd done since he'd gotten hurt and he was stiff. He was about to head out and get food when his dad pulled in. “Stiles!”  
  
  The older man pulled him in for a hug, and Stiles could smell the alcohol on him. “Hey dad. I'm in town for a bit, and I wanted to stop in and say hi.”  
  
  “Come on in. We can get your old room cleaned up and you can stay here.”  
  
   “No, that's okay. My company has already booked a hotel room for the next two weeks.  If I'm still here after that, maybe then. Ok?”  
  
  He hated seeing the disappointment in his father's face, but the man soon rallied. “Sure, Stiles. So what brings you down here?”  
  
  “I'm doing trouble shooting. I'm looking into a problem that some people are having and seeing what can be done to fix it. It's all pretty boring really; digging through data and running it though programs.”  
  
  His dad looked around. “You mowed the lawn? Looks good, but you didn't have to do that.”  
  
  “I paid the kid next door to do it. I figured that he'd love a chance to earn a few extra bucks.”

 

  The pair went inside, and Stiles' dad ordered them some food. While the Sheriff went upstairs to change clothes, Stiles collected the old contained and dumped them in the trash. He paid for the food when it came, and the two sat at the table talking.

 

  “Dad, what happened to the house? It looks like it needs some work. Was there a storm or something that I didn't hear about?”  
  
  He dad stabbed at his food. “No, nothing like that. I just haven't gotten around to it. I'm sure you know how that is.”  
  
  Stiles looked at his dad and took in the extra grey hairs, and the tired looking lines in his face. “Yeah, I know. I'll tell you what; I have a friend from high school who does construction. How about I talk to him and see if we can get the place fixed up.”  
  
  “Sounds good, son. I'm really glad to see you. I've missed you.”  
  
  “I've missed you too, dad.”  
  
    It had been a long day and Stiles needed to call it a night. They finished eating and Stiles left. His dad stood on the porch, watching him drive away. Stiles could see him in his rear view mirror. He gave one last wave and turned onto the next street.

 

  He checked in to his hotel. It was an outside room on the bottom floor, and it allowed him to come and go easily. He grabbed the ice bucket and went in search of the ice machine.  
    
  When he got back, the front door was open. He knew that he'd shut it. Setting the ice bucket on the ground, he quietly eased his gun out of the holster and held it along his thigh. He stayed out of line of sight of the door as much as possible as he moved in closer.  The person silhouetted inside turned and he snapped the gun up. He tightened his finger on the trigger as the man stepped from out of the shadows. Then the light hit his face. Derek.  
  
Stiles put the safety back on and holstered his gun. “It wouldn't have killed you, since these aren't aconite rounds, but I could have put a hole in your uniform. I know how much those cost. Replacing it wouldn't be cheap.”  
   
  Derek didn't say anything. He didn't even move. Stiles waved a hand at him. “Fine. I have ice to retrieve. Excuse me for a minute. I left it on the ground because there was an intruder in my motel room. I would have been in my rights to shoot you, you know.” He made his way back to the ice and snatched it up.  
  
  Derek still hadn't said anything. “God. You're still a creeper.” He grabbed his duffel from where he'd left it by the door, and brought everything to the bed. Opening the bag up, he pulled out his pills. Derek watched Stiles as he popped some pills in his mouth and swallowed them down. Then the hunter wrapped the ice in a towel and held it to his side. “Do you have something to say, or are you just going to stare at me?”  
  
  The alpha turned a chair backwards and sat down. “I got a call from a group called 'GT' today.”  
  
  “Yeah. That was Tim. I hear that you're the one who insisted that I come alone. Tim's pretty unhappy with that by the way. I just got off from medical leave. My next few missions should be with a group.”  
  
  “How bad?” The alpha nodded at the ice bag.  
  
  “What do you care?”  
  
  Derek's jaw tightened. “I don't.”  
  
  “Then you don't need to know. Let me lay something straight, Derek. I'm not the kid who left here eight years ago. I won't be pulled between you and Scott like a chew toy, and I'm not taking any of your crap. You may be the big bad wolf, but I'm not little red riding hood. I've taken down wolves bigger and badder than you.” He raised a hand when Derek looked ready to speak. “I'm not here to take you out. Or Scott. I'm here to take care of whatever has been attacking people. I'll be here until the job is done, and then you'll never have to lay eyes on me again.”  
  
  Derek stood. Before he completely walked away, Stiles had one last thing to say. “Oh. Don't just walk into my room. Next time?  I'll shoot you. It'll heal, but I'll make damn sure it hurts.” The werewolf had paused and then nodded. In a blink he was gone.  
  
  Stiles laid out on the bed and let the pills and the ice work their magic.  
  
###  
  
  He slept in the next day and then got up and showered. It was mid afternoon by the time he got to Scott's.  Allison and Isaac were there too. Stiles ordered a mountain of food and they dug in. “So Isaac, how's it going? I heard that you took over your dad's business.”  
  
  Isaac's hair had grown out a little, and it haloed his head. The curls bounced as he nodded. “Yeah. I knew how to do it and I got to keep the house. Besides, there's always business for a funeral parlor, you know?”  
  
  “Makes sense. You can always count on death and taxes, right?”  
  
  The beta smiled. “So, you became a hunter? That's weird.”  
  
  “It wasn't what I was expecting to do. I thought I'd study pollution and dream up ways to save the earth. Instead I'm still into the supernatural crap. It's a living. I help people though. Save lives. It makes it worth it.”  
  
  Allison asked, “Dad mentioned that your group is kind of like a military organization.”  
  
  Stiles looked at her. “We're very rigorous in who we take in, and we don't target every werewolf. We have very strict rules and our targets are thoroughly investigated  before we go after them. If you break the rules, you're out.”  
  
  “It sounds like a good way to do it.”  
  
  “It is.” He looked at Allison with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So...I'm told that I have you to thank for knocking some sense into Scott here.”  
  
  Scott protested, “You weren't supposed to mention that!”  
  
  Allison grinned evilly. “You're welcome. If he gets too thick headed again, just let me know. That was a _very_ effective threat!”  
  
  “Will do!”  
  
  Isaac snorted at Scott's horrified look.  
  
###

 

     Boyd came out and took a look at the house. He gave an estimate and Stiles was pretty sure that he'd been given a discount. He remember his dad having the roof done once, and it had been double that. He wasn't going to quibble, though, and he accepted.  The roof would get taken care of first, and then the house would be scraped and painted. Boyd smiled and shook his hand.  
  
  Erica came out with the roofing crew. As the house was filled with banging noises, she came inside and sat down. Stiles made coffee and they chatted. They spoke about high school and old times. Erica brought the topic around to Derek, eventually. “He's never been the same since you left.”  
  
   “Who? Scott?”  
  
  “No. Derek!” She twirled her her around her finger, one of her old habits. “If I didn't know any better, I'd have said that he's been pining. He got grumpier, if that's even possible. He's just...sad, I guess.”  
  
  “He looked fine to me.”  
  
  “Yeah, well, take a good look at him next time. I mean it. It's there if you know what you're looking for, and as a werewolf, I can smell it.”  
  
  “Erica, he never cared about me. I wasn't even pack.”  
  
  “If you honestly think that, you're a lot dumber than I thought you were.”  
  
  Stiles had no reply to that, so he just kept drinking his coffee. He didn't even see her out when she left. He just sat there at the kitchen table, a cold cup of coffee in his hands.


	3. Reunions and recalcitrant werewolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen wolf or the characters!

**  
**  
  
The roof was finished in a day, but the rest of the house would take several. Stiles decided to get out for a while. He just _had_ to run into Chris Argent. Of course.  
  
  He tried to ignore the man at first, but Chris just hung there at the periphery of his vision. Tired of the game, he turned and looked right at the man. “What do you want?”  
  
  “You sound just like Hale.” Chris was smirking.  
  
  “Mr. Argent, if you have no legitimate business with me, then I suggest you leave me alone.”  
  
  Chris Argent's face hardened. “The wolves are becoming a problem again. Allison won't hear of it because she's still enamored with Scott, but you've heard about the attacks. You know that it isn’t a cougar.”  
  
  “Yes. I have heard. I've also heard that it's not either of the packs. You're retired, Mr. Argent. Stay that way.”  
  
  “You're a hunter now, just like me. You know that the packs need to be kept under control.”  
  
  Stiles stalked up to Mr. Argent. “I am not like you. What I know is that it isn't just werewolves that need to be kept under control. Two of the worst monsters that I've ever met were **your** family members. Don't forget that.”  
  
  He spun and walked away.  
  
  He made several stops during the day and he kept spotting Derek. Never up close, except for the one time that he stood up and his hip twinged just enough to cause him to stumble. Before he could catch himself, a warm hand was at his elbow. As soon as he was steady, Derek let go and was gone before Stiles could even say thanks.

   He ended up stopping by the newspaper. They had copies of old editions in the back room, and he bought every paper for the last couple of months. He tossed them in a box and lugged them out to the SUV.  Task done, he headed to the hotel. The police cruiser was in the driveway and he saw Derek standing by his door. He  hadn't seen the werewolf move, but when he got out and popped the trunk, two heavily muscled arms grabbed the box first. “I've got this, Derek.”

  
  The man took them anyway, and waited by the door. Stiles unlocked the door and the deputy slid inside. “Where do you want these?”  
  
  “On the table is fine.”  
  
   Stiles opened his mini fridge. “Soda? Water?”  
  
  Derek took the water. Stiles sat and stared at the alpha. Erica was right. Even to his human eyes, Derek looked stretched thin. Dark shadows lined his eyes, his face was thinner, and he seemed a little pale. The silence continued and he realized that Derek was staring at him, too. “We're quite the pair, aren't we?”  
  
  Derek blinked and the frown lines grew deeper. Stiles shook his head. “Damn. I'm going to have to be the mature one and talk about this, aren't I?”  
  
  “Talk about what?” The alpha took another sip of the water and carefully capped it and set it down.  
  
  Stiles kind of waved his hand between them. “This. Us. This non-thing we've always had going. More your creeper thing, but hey.”  
  
  “What 'thing' are you talking about?”  
  
  “Yup. That's exactly what I'm talking about.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, Derek. We've all known that I used to have a huge crush on you, ok? There's no sense in denying it anymore. I've always had the worst luck, and I keep falling for people who are utterly unavailable and out of my league. First it was Lydia, and then it was you.”  
  
  He definitely had the alpha's attention. Derek's eyes were boring into him. If he hadn't had years of practice dealing with it, he might have been intimidated. As it was, he was just tired. “I don't know what's up with you, I really don't. Erica said that you've been 'pining'. And yeah, I can see what she's talking about. You look like crap, Derek. I didn't notice it the other day, but I can see it now. So what's the deal?”

  The alpha looked like he was about to cut and run. If he did, Stiles wasn't going to stop him. He wished he wouldn't, but he refused to chase after him. He would have done it once, but he wasn't that kid anymore. If Derek wanted to wallow in his angst, that was his choice.

  
  “Used to.” Derek's voice was gravelly when he spoke and it startled Stiles just a bit. He hadn't expected any response from the alpha, to be honest.  
  
  “What?”  
  
    “Used to. You said that you 'used to' have a crush on me.”  
  
  “Holy God. Is it really going to be like this?” He stared at Derek's bowed head. “Fine! When I love, I love. Okay? I was madly in love with Lydia for years. She didn't even know that I existed and once she did, I was the dorky kid who sat on the bench. For her, it was Jackson. And you know what? It didn't matter. I loved her anyway. I'll always love her. I'm not 'in love' with her anymore, but I'll always love her. Always, Derek. It's how it works for me.  If I could turn it off, I think that I would. It would hurt a whole hell of a lot less.  But I can't, so I deal with it.  
  What I felt for you? For both of you? It wasn't a crush. I stared an insane alpha in the face while kneeling over Lydia's bloody body, knowing that I could be werewolf kibble. I refused to take sides and left my father and home behind because I couldn't choose. I couldn't choose the best friend I've ever had over the person that I loved. But I couldn't choose you either, because you didn't want me.”  
  
  “Is that what you thought? That I didn't want you?”  
  
  That just made Stiles angry and the words just started spewing out of his mouth. “Oh for the love of...” He managed to push himself up out of the chair. “Being mature is over rated. You showed me in a thousand ways that you didn't want me. When I held your sorry werewolf ass up in eight feet of water, you had the nerve to tell me that you didn't trust me. You kicked me out of pack meetings, saying that I wasn't pack.  But the next time you needed something?  You were back in my room, knocking me around, and demanding that I help you. When you weren't directly doing things like smashing my face into my steering wheel or kidnapping me, you were having your goons do it. You had Erica bash me in the head with my own car part and throw me in a garbage dumpster. I was nothing but trash to you, and you proved it every time you saw me!”  
  
  Derek's eyes began to glow. Stiles drew his weapon but kept it low. “Oh no you don't, buddy. We stay human and civilized, or we don't do this at all.”  
  
  Derek made no move on him, but his eyes stayed red. “She did what?!”  
  
  Judging it to be safe, he holstered his weapon. “Who? Erica?”  At Derek's nod, he explained. “She ripped a piece of my car out with her bare hands, hit me in the head, and threw me in a garbage dumpster. Do you want me to draw you a flow chart?”  
  
  The alpha's voice was a low growl. “I told her to keep you out of the way for the night. I didn't tell her to hurt you.”  
  
  “Well, you set such a great example for the werewolf babies back then, didn't you? It was all 'kill it if you think it **might** be a threat' or 'beat it because I can'. So you might want to simmer down there, chief. You can't exactly blame her for following your example, can you?”

    Derek visibly reigned himself in. Stiles nodded and sat back down. “So. Erica. Is she right? Are you pining?”

  
    “It's not..pining. Not really.”  
  
  “So if it's not pining, then what is it?”  
  
  “You're my anchor.”  
  
  “What does that mean?”  
  
  “I used to focus on anger. It worked fine as a beta, but it made me a crappy alpha. I was unstable, angry, violent. Deaton made me work on finding a new one and only one really worked.”  
  
  “Me?”  
  
   “Yes.”  
  
  “So I am to you what Lydia and Allison are to Jackson and Scott?”  
  
  “Basically.”  
  
  “Basically? God, this is like pulling teeth. Spill, Sourwolf!”  
  
  Derek's head whipped up. “You stopped calling me that a long time ago.”  
  
  “Yeah, I guess I did.” He pointed at the alpha. “But back on track.”  
  
   “An alpha needs an anchor more than a beta. It keeps us grounded, sane. It's what can make the difference between a good alpha or a horrible one.  It wasn't just being burned that made my uncle crazy. It was losing his mate and anchor; his wife.”  
  
  Stiles stared at Derek. “Am I your mate?” The alpha didn't answer him. “Holy crap, Derek! Answer me. Am I your mate?”  
  
  “Yes.”  
  
  “How long have you known?”  
  
  “Ever since the alphas. They knew. They could smell it. If I hadn't been so confused and out of control, I'd have known it too.”  
  
  “You've known since I was sixteen years old. Ten years. Ten years, Derek! Why didn't you ever say anything?!”  
  
   “You were a kid! A kid that I didn't even like at first! I didn't want you to be my mate. Then, as time went on and I realized that you were funny, courageous, loyal, and strong; I knew that you were perfect. By then, Scott had his own pack and he was pushing you to choose. I tried to stay out of it, to let you be Scott's, but it was so hard. Everything in me was screaming at me that I needed you. When you left, I left you alone. If there was nothing else that I could give you, at least I could give you that.”  
  
  “What has this cost you, Derek? If you've needed an anchor, needed me, what has this done to you?”  
  
  “It doesn't matter.”  
  
  “It does. You still should have told me. Maybe it would have changed things, I don't know. At least I could have made an informed choice. But that can't be undone and what I need to know right now is what this did to you? Did it hurt you, or damage you in some way? Did it weaken you? Are you okay?”  
  
  “I used the pack to ground me. It's worked well enough.”  
  
  Stiles sat there, thinking it all through. He ran through everything he knew about werewolves, which was extensive at this point. He thought about Scott's interactions with Allison. He thought about Lydia bringing Jackson back. “I'm pretty sure that contact is what you need right now. So just go with this, ok?”  
  
  Stiles led them to the bed and he made Derek sit. Then he sat next to him. The alpha was stiff and resistant. With an exasperated huff, Stiles reached over and touched Derek's face. Almost despite himself, Derek leaned into him.  Stiles could feel the _need_ in him.

     The alpha turned towards him, sliding one hand behind the hunter's neck and bringing their foreheads together. He held them together like that for a long time, just breathing and centering himself. Despite Derek's wolf howling for more, he leaned back. “I should go.”

  
  Stiles watched him. “Now that I know, I'm not going to let you run from this.”  
  
    “I know. Can I stop by after work tomorrow?”  
  
  “I'll be here.”

  
  
  Stiles spent the rest of the evening wondering what to do. Being a hunter had become his life. But if he was Derek's mate, what then? Granted, Derek had survived ten years without a mate. It was possible that he could spend the rest of his life like that. The only problem was that he couldn't quite convince himself of that. Just something about the way Derek looked made him think that the alpha couldn't last like that forever.  
  
  Despite all of his research and knowledge, he didn't have a lot on mates.  He couldn't find anything much online, but then he hadn't expected to. Pondering the wisdom of this move, he called Tim.  
  
  “What's up, Stiles? Do you have news on the attacks?”  
  
  “Not much yet. I wanted to pick your brain about something different. You up for it?”  
  
  “Why not? I'm not busy right now.”  
  
  “Hypothetically speaking, how long could a werewolf go without their anchor?”  
  
  “Hooo-boy. You don't ask the easy stuff, do you?”  
  
  “Have I ever?”  
  
  Tim chuckled. “Not usually. Ok, this is complicated. There are many variables.  Can you give me something more to go on?”  
  
  “Let's start with the anchor bit, and go from there.”  
  
  “All right. Well, I'm pretty sure that you know that werewolves use something to anchor their humanity so that they don't lose control.  That's part of why the newly turned are so crazy. They haven't found that anchor yet. For some of us, it's a thought or concept. For others, it's people or even a place.”  
  
  “If it's a person, does that person need to be in proximity to the werwolf to provide the anchor?”  
  
  Tim made a humming noise. “The more contact they have the better, but it doesn't require the person's presence all the time if the werewolf has a good connection and is fairly solid in their control.”  
  
  “So what happens if the anchor isn't around a lot. Or at all.”  
  
  “At first it might be okay. After a while, though, the werewolf's control would wear thin. They'd require contact.”  
  
  “If they don't have contact, can they choose a new anchor?”  
  
   Tim was silent for a moment. “You're going somewhere with this, Stiles. Is there a problem that I need to be aware of?”  
  
  “That's what I'm trying to find out. I really need you to answer the last questions.”  
  
  “While difficult, a werewolf can establish a new focus. The only exception is if they are mated. Mated wolves will always use their mate as their focus. In the event of death, the wolf can literally go crazy. Some very strong ones can survive, but they're never quite the same.”  
  
  “How long can an alpha go without contact with their mate to anchor them?”  
  
   “An alpha? They have more power and need a stronger focus. If they're mated, they should have constant contact with their mate. Daily is ideal. I'm not sure why a mated wolf would be apart from their mate, so it wouldn't be an issue.”  
  
  “Tim, let's go on the assumption that the alpha's mate is apart from them. How long can they hold out, and what happens when it becomes too much?”  
  
  “A weak alpha would last a year, tops. A strong one could probably go a few years. If they had a solid pack, maybe longer. After that they'd either go feral and take the whole pack with them, or they'd waste away.” Tim cleared his throat. “I'd ask whose mate you are, but there's only one real alpha there. If Derek's lasted what? Ten years? Then it’s a bloody miracle that he's alive and sane. If you were dead, he could possibly find a new anchor. With you alive, his wolf would refuse.”

   “Crap.”

  
  “You've got some choices to make, kid.”  
  
  “I know.”  
  
  “Do you want my two cents?”  
  
  “Sure, Tim. Go ahead.”  
  
  “I'd take this as a signal from the universe. You got hurt and that's the kind of injury that often plagues humans. I know that you care about Hale. I smelled it on you. I could hear your heartbeat tell it for the lie it is when you said that you meant nothing to each other. If you care about this guy, use this as your chance to retire and start over.”  
  
  “I'll think about it.  Thanks, Tim.”

   “Just keep me in the loop.”

  
  “Will do.”  


  The next day, Stiles started earning his keep and looking into the were-leopard attacks.  He read the articles and looked for patterns.  He went though his notes from talking to Scott. The beta had filled him in on some of the details that never made the paper.  He mapped out dates, times, moon phases, places, victim profiles, and more. He ran programs created just for this purpose. He sent the findings back to headquarters for analysis.  
  
  His stomach reminded him that he hadn't had breakfast and it was now past lunch. He decided to take a break, and bring lunch to his dad at the station. His father was pleased with the work being done on the house. They munched on veggie burgers, and the Sheriff didn't even make a face about it. Stiles remembered how nice it had been to hang out with his father.

  
  Later, he was checking to see if he had anything back from the GT's analysis department when there was a knock. It was Derek.  He was still in uniform and it looked like he'd come straight over. Stiles waved him in.  He pulled up the preliminary analysis on his laptop and showed it to the alpha.  
  
  Derek had leaned in to look at the screen, and their bodies were touching along one side. Stiles pushed into Derek's side until the alpha was a firm weight against him. “What do you think?”  
  
  “If this is correct, the were-leopard will kill soon. It's escalating. It's almost as if the human side is being taken over by the animal.”  
  
  “I'd guessed that, but this analysis confirms it. I was hoping that we'd find a pattern in its hunting, but it seems random.” He looked at Derek.  “We're not sure what will kill it. We know that wolfsbane won't work, but silver might. I can give you some silver ammo in case you run into it.”

   “You have silver ammunition?”

  
  “Yeah, in the SUV.  Want me to get you some?”  
  
  “Later. It might be useful to have if I'm not in a position to wolf out.”  
  
  Stiles nudged Derek. “Have you had dinner?”  
  
  “Not yet.”  
  
  “Come on. I've got sandwich stuff.”   
  
  He'd stiffened up some, and got up awkwardly. Derek asked, “How'd you get hurt?”  
  
  Stiles started pulling food out of the fridge. “Our intel was flawed. Everything pointed to one werewolf. He'd been catching people, torturing them, and then leaving their bodies on their doorsteps. We got this guy on camera. We confirmed his hideout.  I was dispatched and I took him down. What we hadn't known was that two of them were working together.  I got caught by surprise and he got me from behind.”  
  
  Derek caught his arm. “You went after werewolves alone?”

   “It's my job.”

  
  “You need a new job.”  
  
  “Funny. You're the second person to tell me that today.” Stiles grabbed the bread. “Roast beef or turkey?”  
  
  “Roast beef, please.”

   Stiles began peeling off lettuce leaves. “I spoke to Tim today. I got a lot of information.” He pointed at a bag on the floor. “Paper plates are in there. Can you get them?”

  
  Derek got the plates. “Drinks?”  
  
  “Fridge. So tell me, how did you survive ten years? Tim gave an alpha a few years at best without their mates.”  
  
  “You were here for two and half of it of it. We interacted enough that I could focus on you. After that, Deaton helped me. He kept me focused on the pack.”  
  
  When it was done, Stiles served it up. They ate in silence. “Thanks for dinner. I should go. Tomorrow?”  
  
  Stiles pulled the alpha in for a hug and held him for a while, making sure that Derek had enough time to center and use him as an anchor. Derek eventually pulled away, but slower than Stiles had guessed he would. “Let's get you that ammo.”  
  
  They went out to the vehicle and Stiles opened a compartment built into the back. He grabbed a box and slid it over to Derek. “That should fit in your service weapon. If you keep it loaded with the silver, it'll be safer. Silver bullets will still handle a normal perp, but you can't change out ammo while chasing the were-leopard.” Stiles took a risk and kissed Derek lightly. “See you tomorrow.”

 


	4. Unexpected turns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen wolf or the characters!

 

    The following morning. Stiles headed out to look at a few of the attack sites. Not a lot of evidence would be left, but he was trying to get a feel for whether the attacks were opportunistic or planned. The first stop was a park. Based on what info he had, it was along the jogging trail. He knew the spot when he found it. Bushes along the sides had been crushed and broken, gravel had been sprayed out of the path and into the grass, and there were still blood spatters.

 

  As Stiles looked around, he realized that the area was fairly secluded. The trail led towards the back edge of the park and was edged by woods. The bushes and trees would block the attack from being seen unless somebody jogged right up the path. He took note of that and moved on.  
  
  The next spot was behind a closed up restaurant. The person had been walking home from work and cut through the lot as a shortcut. The spot where the attack happened couldn't be seen from the road or the front of the building.

  
   The last stop Stiles made before taking a break was the site of the most brutal attack yet. The were-leopard had attacked a woman walking from her apartment to the grocery store a mile away. It was along a road that would appear to break the pattern as being too visible, but as Stiles investigated, he realized that there was practically no traffic. Trees lined the road and there were no businesses or houses on this stretch.  
  
  He'd have to see if the other attack sites were as isolated. He was definitely seeing a pattern, though. Stiles would have to check with Derek and find out more concerning the victims. Figuring this stuff out wasn't his specialty, but they'd all been trained to do it. He also tended to pick up on information quickly, and what he couldn't figure out, the people back at headquarters could.  
  
  As the days passed, he fell into a routine.  He checked out the attack sites in the morning, had lunch with his dad, researched in the afternoon, and spent evenings with Derek.  Each night, Derek stayed a little longer. He got a little more comfortable each night, though he never initiated physical contact.

 

   Stiles still hadn't figured out his long term plans, but he knew that he couldn't abandon Derek. He also wanted to see more of his dad. Stiles just didn't know where that left him. Coming back to Beacon Hills meant retiring as a hunter from GT, and that was all he knew anymore.

  
  Stiles had been back for a week when a new attack happened. He'd been wondering if the were-leopard had gotten spooked and moved on. Derek hadn't showed up at his usual time, and as the evening drew late, Stiles got concerned. He texted the alpha and was told that he was on his way. He threw dinner into the microwave, hoping that the enclosed area would keep it warm. Derek arrived looking tired and grimnfaced.  
  
  Instead of sitting at the table, Stiles installed Derek on the bed and brought him a plate of lasagna. As they ate, the alpha finally spoke. “It killed this time. A young mother. It left her toddler alive, but murdered her in front of it.”  
  
  “Crap. Have the pack been able to track this guy?”  
  
  “No.  It's been jumping through the trees and leaving false trails everywhere. We haven't been able to pinpoint it yet.”  
  
  “What can you give me about the killing?  I'll enter it into the programs and I'll send the information to headquarters right away.”  
  
  Derek filled him in, including what he'd picked up with his werewolf senses. Stiles wrote everything down, even the smallest details.  He called headquarters, sent them the updated files, and he was given clearance to take out the were-leopard. When he hung up, Derek was half asleep.  He made a decision.  
  
  “Come on. Get up for a second.”  He tugged at Derek and the alpha took it to mean that Stiles was kicking him out for the night. He started angling towards the door. Stiles stepped around him and pushed him towards the bed. “Nope. You're beat. You may be a werewolf and can probably survive a crash, but the paperwork would be a bitch. Let's get you out of your uniform.”  
  
  Eventually Stiles got the alpha into the bathroom. He tossed Derek an old, baggy pair of sweats. “Here. These might fit you.” After Derek, he went to the restroom and got changed.  By the time he came out, Derek was asleep. When Stiles got under the covers, he slid right up next to Derek, holding him. In his sleep the alpha let out a soft sigh, and the lines of tension in his face eased.  Stiles gently rubbed his mate's arm and he too, fell asleep.  
  
  From then on, Derek spent the night. Nothing was ever spoken, it just happened. Derek's clothes migrated over, and his toothbrush sat next to his on the bathroom sink. Stiles got used to both of them going out to breakfast before Derek went to work.  
  
    A second kill happened a week later. Nobody was any closer to catching the were-leopard, and Derek grudgingly gave permission for Tim to come to Beacon Hill's. Tim had formally greeted Derek and Scott, and made a perfunctory visit to Chris Argent. Derek wasn't entirely thrilled with another hunter and a foreign werewolf being in his territory, but he accepted it for Stiles.  
  
  Nights were often spent with the three of them pouring over the data, going back to crime scenes, and trying to track the were-leopard down.  They weren't having much luck.  It either had a lot of knowledge or it was extremely smart. A pattern emerged; it would stalk its prey, watching their routine. The were-leopard would pick a spot that its victim routinely visited that was secluded or sheltered, and then it would strike. The only pattern were that the victims were young; always teens to early twenties. It toyed with them and it never killed right away. It took it's time and would release its victim, only to catch it again.  
  
####  
  
  Scott had come by the hotel to spend some time with him. Stiles was glad to have the time alone, because he needed to talk to his friend. “Hey Scott, I want to talk to you about something.”  
  
   The beta was dragging some boxes of research material into the room. He set them down. “What about?”  
  
  “Look, I...” He ran his hands through his hair nervously. He wasn't sure how his friend was going to take this.  
  
  Scott sat down. “It's about Derek, right? I know he's been staying here. I can smell him all over the place, and on you.”  
  
  “Yeah, it's about Derek, but there's more to it than that. We're mates, like you and Allison.”  
  
  “Deaton told me that a while ago.” Scott shrugged.  
  
  Stiles threw a pillow at his friend. “Did everybody know but me? Oh my God. How could you not tell me?”  
  
  “You and Derek had to figure that out on your own, you know? Besides, Deaton was about to clue you in anyway. Derek had almost hit his limit and he was concerned.”  
  
 “Gee, you think? He could have gone psycho, and given that he's an alpha, he could have seriously hurt somebody.”  
  
  “No. Alan was sure that Derek wouldn't go crazy.”  
  
  Stiles muttered to himself, knowing that Scott could hear it. “And if he'd been wrong? Holy God. I'd have been coming down here to clean up the mess. I'd have been the one putting the bullet in Derek's brain. Oh, that is just screwed up.”  
  
###  
  
   A few days later, the stakes got higher. A teenager was dead and another was missing. They'd last been seen together. Analysts from headquarters were guessing that the were-cat had taken the second teenager to play with at its leisure. Police were searching, looking for the girl. They thought that the other teen had been frightened and run away. Stiles and Tim knew differently, and they ran searches based on what their programs were telling them.  
  
  They closed in on a zone that had been flagged based on previous data. As they approached the area, they heard noises. Both men pulled their weapons and crept forward. Stiles could just see a bloody foot sticking out from behind a tree.  He waved Tim forward. A dark shape flashed from the underbrush and away.  Tim took off after it, and Stiles went for the girl.

 

   She'd been savagely mutilated, but was alive.  Her eyes were filled with terror, blood bubbling from her lips. Stiles began ripping bandages out of his vest pocket. “It's ok. We're here to help. Hang on, ok?”  
  
  The girl tried to speak and sprayed blood across his face. He just wiped it away and kept working. “Don't try to talk. Just hang on!”  
  
  The teenager's chest rose in a burbling gasp and she sighed, breath rattling out. She didn't take another one. “No! Come on! Don't die.”  He started performing CPR.  
  
  His arms were aching from it by the time Tim came back. The werewolf told him to stop, and eventually he had to physically pull him from the girl's body. “She's gone, Stiles. Let her go.”

 

   The hunter stood there, panting, looking at the girl's face. Her tears had left clean trails through the blood and grime. Watching this girl die was like looking into his past. It was like looking at all the people he'd lost and couldn't save. Tim told him to go back and he alerted law enforcement.  
     
  Stiles drove back to the hotel room and he showered in a daze. Mechanically, he dressed and tried to enter data from this latest incident. He stood abruptly, knocking his chair over, and he went over to the window. He watched life continue on out there. He knew that two girls were dead and that their families would never be the same.

 

   He didn't know how long he'd been there; first standing, and then sliding down the wall. Long enough for his whole side to be on fire, and yet he still stayed there, motionless. Long enough that day turned to night and Derek came back to find him like that.

 

  He didn't even register Derek's presence at first, his hunter's training failing him. It wasn't until Derek physically shifted Stiles to ease his side and hip that he noticed the blanket around his shoulders, or the bottle of water by his knee. Derek was a warm presence beside him, not speaking but offering comfort. When Stiles became more aware, the alpha opened the water and handed it to him. “Thanks.” Stiles voice was rough.  
  
  Derek spoke. “There was nothing you could have done. She was so badly injured that nothing could have saved her.”  
  
  Stiles stretched out his leg and grimaced. “We've been here for weeks and I should have caught this monster by now!”  
  
  The alpha kissed him gently and slid his hand over the scar tissue on his hip. Stiles felt the pain ease immediately. Derek pulled him in tightly. “We'll catch it. It won't bring her back, but we'll catch it and keep it from hurting anybody else.”  
  
    They sat on the floor for a while longer. “I remember what it felt like; being a kid, because really? We were kids. I was terrified all the time. I remember being so scared that the people I cared about would die. This girl? That all became a reality to her today. She watched her friend get murdered, and then she was toyed with in some sick game of cat and mouse.”

 

  There was nothing Derek could say to that. Instead, he sat there with Stiles, waiting until he was ready to pick himself back up and keep going. Stiles sighed and started to stand. Derek pulled them both up.“You need to eat.”  
  
  “Hey, what time is it?”  
  
  Derek looked at his watch. “It's 9:12 pm.”  
  
  “Was Tim here when you arrived?”

 

  “No. I thought he'd left to give you some privacy.”  
  
  “He should have been back by now.”  Stiles pulled out his cell phone and called. “It's ringing and then going to voice mail.”

 

###  
  
   Stiles contacted headquarters to let them know that a field agent had gone missing. He was told that a team would be arriving in two hours.  Not wanting to wait, he geared up. “There's an abandoned camping cabin in the same area we found the girl. It got flagged today, but we hadn't had a chance to check it. ” He turned and looked at Derek as he strapped on a wrist sheath. “A full team will be here in two hours. I've given them the details, but you know the area. Can you lead them in?”  
  
  “I'm going with you.”  
  
  Stiles nodded and turned back to the SUV. “Do you have the silver bullets loaded?”  
  
  “I did it the night you gave them to me.”  
  
  “Ok. Here.” He handed Derek a knife that gleamed in the street light. “I know that you have your whole wolfy thing, but that evidently didn't help Tim. That's got a high silver concentration. Enough to potentially hurt the were-leopard, if the silver rumors are true.”  
  
   Derek looked up. “Did you call your dad?”  
  
  “No. Why?”  
  
  Derek pointed at the patrol car coming down the street. “That's his car. It has a distinctive sound.”  
  
  Stiles looked down at himself, visibly armed to the teeth. “Crap. This is going to be hell to explain.”

  
   The patrol car pulled up beside them, and Stiles could see his dad staring at him. The Sheriff got slowly out of the car.  “I got a call about two men with guns at the hotel. I wasn't expecting it to be you two. Would you like to explain?”  
  
  “Honestly? No. Will I? Later. I don't have time right now, Dad.  A friend of mine is probably hurt, and possibly dead, and I need to go get him.”  
  
  His dad had his cop face on. “And you didn't report this to the police?” He looked at Derek. “Well, I suppose that you did, but not officially. Deputy Hale, we will be discussing this.”  
  
  “Yes, sir.”  
  
  Stiles broke in, “Look, it's not his fault and I really need to go. I'll explain later.”  
  
  “Whatever you're up to, I'm going with you. Hop in.”  
  
  Stiles waved his hand in agitation. “I have gear in the SUV that we may need. Also? You are not equipped to deal with what we're facing!”  
  
  “Stiles, we can take the SUV, if that's what you need, but I am going. That is not negotiable.”  
  
  Stiles opened the back hatch and dug around for more silver bullets. “Here. Load your gun with these.”  He pulled a safety vest out of another compartment. “You'll need this too.”  
  
  “I'm wearing my vest.”  
  
  “Dad, bullet proof vests won't handle what we're up against. You're more likely to be slashed than shot at, and your vest won't protect against that.”  
  
  His dad took it and switched out. “Is this what you do for a living, Stiles? I thought that you were a consultant or a problem solver.”  
  
  “I am, just not in the way that you think.”  He hopped behind the wheel. “Come on, then.”  
  
  He gave his dad a brief explanation on the way, hitting only on the most important parts. He could tell that the Sheriff thought he was crazy, but he didn't say anything. They parked about a mile out from the cabin. “If this thing has as good hearing as werewolves, it'll hear us coming.” He watched Derek sniff the air. “Anything?”  
  
  “Faint traces of Tim. Hours old. That way.”  He led them into the woods. Stiles followed silently, heart beat steady. The Sheriff trailing behind.  
  
  Stiles touched the alpha's back and when Derek turned, he pointed. In the tree above then was a scrap of fabric. Derek grabbed a branch and climbed high enough to get it. He spoke low and quiet, “Tim. Strong were-cat scent. It must have taken him through the canopy.”  
  
  He climbed back up and began to follow the scent above them. Stiles and the Sheriff  trailed below, keeping an eye out. They were getting close to where the cabin was supposed to be when something slammed into Derek, knocking him out of the tree and to the ground below. He lay there stunned for a moment and heard two shots ring out.  
  
  “Damn.” Stiles knelt by Derek, checking on him. “I clipped him, but it wasn't center mass.”  
  
  The Sheriff was looking a little wide eyed. “That thing was fast.”  
  
  They moved along more cautiously now.  When they came to the cabin, Derek growled. “Blood. A lot of it.”  
  
  “Tim's?”  
  
  “Some, but not all. It reeks of death.”  
  
  Stiles snuck around the side of the building, peering in the window. It was too dark to make anything out. He nodded at Derek, and the alpha when through the door, Stiles right behind him.  Stiles almost gagged at the stench inside. Blood and flesh covered every surface. Some of it was old and decaying, and then there were brighter splashes of new blood. It was clear that the were-leopard had been killing for some time; starting with animals and working its way up to people.  
  
  Derek's smell was almost overwhelmed, but he managed to follow Tim's scent to a small bedroom. The werewolf was chained to the wall. He hung limply, covered in blood. Stiles did a quick check of the cabin. The Sheriff came in and saw Tim, “Is he...?”  
  
  “He's alive. Barely.”  
  
  Stiles told them,“I'm letting the team know. They should be about forty five minutes out.” He typed a text in and it buzzed in his hand a few seconds later.  “Ok. Our priority is to get him out. They can come back in for the were-leopard.”  
  
  Derek ripped the chains from the wall and caught Tim as he fell forward.  Stiles reached into his vest, pulling out some of his re-stocked bandages. He did his best to patch up the worst of it. “I need you to carry him. We'll cover you.”  
  
  The alpha picked up the injured wolf, being careful of his wounds.  Stiles made sure that his weapon was fully loaded and let Derek know that he was ready. “Let's go.”  
  
  Derek went through the woods, limp werewolf in his arms. Stiles and the Sheriff followed behind, trying to watch all angles. A slight puff of noise to the left and Stiles turned and fired. An eerie yowl rent the air. The Sheriff moved close to Stiles. “Did you hit it?”  
  
  “I don't think so. I think it's just taunting us.”  
  
  The were-leopard came close several times, but never quite in range. It made them jumpy, and the Sheriff was sweating.  
  
    They were finally close to the SUV when Derek caught movement in the trees. “Stiles, above you!”  
  
  The were-leopard dropped from the tree and Stiles shot it as it fell.  The leopard's claws stuck in the protective vest and Stiles pumped four more rounds into it point blank. It let go with a cry, but didn't run.  Sheriff Stilinski didn't have a good shot without risking his son, so he angled to the side. Derek set Tim down and jumped the were-cat. The two tumbled through the underbrush.  
  
  Derek threw the leopard back and it landed against a tree. It shook itself and quickly launched itself into the branches. As it moved around in the canopy Stiles backed up, standing over Tim. The Sheriff and Derek were off to the side. Suddenly, it dropped right in front of him, batting the gun out of his hands.  
  
  Derek roared, and the were-leopard turned.  The two launched themselves at each other. Stiles pulled a gun from his other holster, while Derek and the cat fought. The were-leopard was taking huge swipes at Derek and then twisting out of the way of the alpha's blows. The werewolf was dripping from multiple wounds.  His dad had unloaded his clip into it, and it was still focused on the deputy. “Derek! Down!”   
  
  The alpha glanced at Stiles and dropped. It caught the were-leopard by surprise as it was lunging forward. It stumbled just a little and turned. Stiles was emptying his clip into its chest, dead center. Shots kept ringing out until the clip was empty. The were-leopard's chest was a bloody mess, but it was still alive. Stiles muttered, “So much for silver. Guess we go the massive damage route.”  
  
  The cat wasn't dead, but it was certainly injured and not moving fast. Stiles pulled his last gun from the back of his waistband and unloaded it right into the were-leopard's head. When it dropped, just to be sure, he grabbed his knife and slit its throat.  
  
  Sheriff Stilinski just stared at him. Stiles turned to say something and when he saw his father's face he just sighed. “Let's go.” He texted the team and updated them on the situation. They would meet them by the road.  
  
   As they waited, Stiles stripped off his gear and re-packed the SUV.  Derek made Tim comfortable, and his dad stood there silently.  The GT group arrived, breaking the unbearable silence, and they loaded Tim into a medical van. The rest peeled off to retrieve the body of the were-leopard and erase traces of its existence. His dad handed him back the vest and got into the vehicle without speaking a word.  
  
  They drove back to the hotel, and the Sheriff just left. The next day, Stiles stopped by the station for lunch, but his dad wasn't there. He'd tried calling, but only got his voice mail. He stopped by the house, and his dad didn't answer. He stared at the building, knowing that his dad was inside, and not having any way to fix this.


	5. Into the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen wolf or the characters!

   Tim had called to let him know that he was ok. It was great to hear him. “It's good to be a werewolf. I love the healing. Not so fond of the brow ridge thing we have going on, but it's a tradeoff.”  
  
  Stiles laughed. “Well, I'll be seeing you soon, then. I'll wrap things up here and be back at headquarters by the end of the week.”  
  
  “Stiles...do you think that's what's best? You have a mate. You have a father.”  
  
  “I won't be coming back to stay, Tim. I'll need to put in my severance paperwork and clear out my room. My dad is freaked, but I can't just leave Derek.”  
  
  Tim heaved a sigh of relief. “That's good to hear, kid. I like Hale, and that's a bad way to die. Sure, you could probably visit or something, but he'd never be at full strength. I was going to beat you over the head with the whole guilt trip thing, and frankly? That probably would have earned me a wolfsbane bullet. So, I'm glad that you came to your senses.” A voice could be heard on the other end. “The nurses are angry that I wandered off. See you soon!”  
  
  Stiles hung up with a smile. He dug through the old newspapers, checking out apartments. He wasn't sure yet what he'd do to occupy himself. He had enough in saving to tide him over for a while. He'd lived on base the entire time and they'd paid him moderately well. Stiles had always secretly suspected that GT was a government run agency. He couldn't prove it, of course, but he still suspected it. Not that it mattered.  
  
  Derek showed up to the hotel room that night at his usual time. He sat next to Stiles, leaning into his space. “It's all wrapped up?”  
  
  “Pretty much. I've got some paperwork to finish and I'll turn it in when I'm at headquarters.”  
  
  “So this is it then.”  
  
  Stiles looked at his mate. He smiled. “I thought about torturing you and dragging this out, but I won't.   I'm coming back. To stay.” He waved some of the newspapers at Derek. “I've already started apartment hunting.”  
  
  Derek snatched the papers from Stiles. “I've rebuilt the house and there's plenty of room. Stay with me.”  
  
    The hunter nudged Derek in the ribs. “Sure that you can put up with me?”  
  
  Derek didn't verbally respond. Instead, he pulled Stiles in for a kiss.  When they broke off, Stiles was short of breath. “I'm not waiting ten years for another of those.”  
  
  “Then move in with me and we can do that every day.”  
  
  “Sounds like a plan.”  
  
   ###  
  
   Stiles went back to headquarters. He got stuck there for a week, tying up loose ends and filling out paperwork. Tim threw him a party. “Call if you need anything, kid. We're still friends.”  He handed him a GT phone and some keys. “Besides, you're not actually quitting, not unless you want to. I managed to get you assigned to be our adjunct to the Beacon Hill's area. That place is a supernatural hub of activity, and with two packs there, it would be good to have a permanent liaison. So in a way, it's your job to take care of Derek now.”  
  
  Stiles gave his friend a hug. “That sounds great. Thanks!”  
  
  Stiles drove away in his official vehicle. It was loaded with gear and more could be sent if needed. Teams could be called in if a situation called for it. It made him responsible for the entire area, and he was a bit nervous about that, but he knew that he'd have help.

 

  It was late when he finally pulled up to the rebuilt Hale house and Derek was standing outside waiting. By the time Stiles had his duffel out and the door shut, Derek was at his side.  
  
  The alpha rubbed his face into his mate's neck, inhaling deeply. Stiles held him, knowing that Derek needed to reconnect and ground. When Derek lifted his head, Stiles could see the shadows under his eyes. “Come on. Let's get some sleep.”  
  
  The next day, Stiles made Derek call in sick. The alpha was pale and still tired.  “You should have called me. I'd have come back sooner.”  
  
  “I knew you were coming back. It’s not that bad.”  
  
  Stiles wanted to smack the alpha upside the head but instead he kissed him. “I didn't know a week would be a problem. You lasted ten years.”  
  
  “It's because I was so close to the edge before you came. Deaton had been pushing me to call you. He says that I'm going to need regular physical contact with you for a while before we can be separated any length of time.”  
  
  “You realize that would have been nice to know _before_ I left for a week?”  
  
  “And then you wouldn't have gone. You had things to do and I survived.”  
  
  “Idiot.” He pushed Derek back under the covers and held him as he slept. The warmth and quiet sucked him under, and soon he was asleep too.  
  
  Stiles woke to Derek lightly tracing his fingers over the rough scarring visible above his waistband. “Tim says that you never let it heal properly. Does it still bother you?”  
  
 “It doesn't stop me.”  


   “That's not an answer.”  
  
 Stiles shrugged. “It'll probably always hurt. At least the back doesn't itch anymore. The itching while it healed drove me crazy.”  
  
 “You never have let me see.”  
  
  Stiles sat up and hooked his fingers under his shirt. As he pulled up, Derek could see four long claw marks across Stile's back. He gently traced along them one by one. “Do they hurt?”  
  
“Not anymore.”  
  
Derek tugged Stiles back down. He tried to see the scar on Stiles hip, but he was blocked by the hunter's jeans. Stiles unzipped his pants and pulled the top over so that Derek could see. He knew that it looked ugly. The scar tissue was still red looking and mildly swollen. It had been a deep wound and it hadn't healed smoothly. Derek sucked in a breath. “This came close to the artery.”  
  
“Just above it, yeah. I got lucky. A little lower and I would have bled out before they could have gotten me to surgery.”  
  
Derek smoothed his hand over the scar and Stiles grabbed his wrist. “Don't. If you're planning on taking pain, you're in no shape for it. It’s fine.”  
  
“I won't. Not right now.”  
  
Stiles let go of his wrist. “Ok.”  
  
Derek traced the ridges and edges of the scar. He ended with putting his hand over the area, as if he were protecting it from further harm. “Does it affect your mobility?”  
  
“You're actually sick enough to call in to work, and you're worried about a months old injury? Maybe we should be talking about you.”  
  
Derek didn't remove his hand, but he did stop asking questions.  
  
The two of them had relaxed most of the day. He filled Derek in on what had been going on, and that he was now the official GT liaison to Beacon Hills.  He joked that he was taking care of his job by taking care of Derek. The alpha just told him to shut up and go back to work. So he did; he scrounging around at the pitiful pickings of Derek's kitchen and cobbling something together to eat.  
  
  The alpha went back to work the next day and Stiles brought lunch to his dad. He could tell that his father hadn't expected to see him. “Hey, dad. I brought baked sweet potato fries, roast chicken, and steamed broccoli!” He laid the containers out and handed the Sheriff a fork.  
  
  “Stiles.”  
  
  “I'm back in town. Well, you can see that, I guess. But I'm here to stay.” He stabbed a broccoli. “I realize that you're dealing with a huge shift in your world view and that now's not a good time, but here's a new one for you: I'm bi. In fact, Derek and I are a thing. A permanent thing. So, yeah.”  He munched on the abused broccoli and waited.

 

  “Ok, that? I can handle that. What I can't handle is seeing my son butcher a person!”  
  
  Stiles leaned back in his chair, peering out into the hall to make sure that nobody had been around to hear that. He closed the door and put all four legs of the chair back down. “I'm a hunter, Dad. I have been for about six years now. Before that, I was up to my ears running in a world that included hunters, werewolves, and other strange and scaly things. What I do isn't so different than what you do. I catch bad guys. In my case, they sprout claws and get furry.”  
  
  “Stiles, you didn't 'catch' that creature, you slaughtered it. You put two clips into it. One in the chest and one in the head, and then you slit its throat. You didn't even flinch!”  
  
  “Dad, you saw what that thing was capable of. All of the 'cougar attacks' where his doing. He enjoyed it! The group I work with only kills when we have solid evidence. We get the proof, and we take the rabid ones out.”  
  
   “Just like that?”  
  
  “Trust me, we pay a price for it. Most human hunters don't have a high survival rate. Look at the Argents. They were a well-known hunting family. They were so large that they spread across the country. Now it's just Allison and Chris. The rest are dead.”

 

  Stiles stood and showed his father his back. “That's not the worst of it, and I was lucky.”  
  
  His father was horrified. “That's lucky?”  
  
  “I walked away with a month of physio.” He showed him the edge of the scar along his side. “But I walked away. It's why we try to recruit werewolves. They can take more damage and heal faster. In the last few years I've seen more friends leave in body bags than I care to count. I've seen others left so crippled that they'll spend the rest of their lives in nursing homes.”  
  
  “Then why do it?”  
  
  “Why are you a cop?”  
  
  “To protect people. To make the world a safer and better place.”  
  
  “Exactly. That's my reason too.”  
  
  The Sheriff ate his food, grimacing a bit at the broccoli. “It's a lot to take in, Stiles.  You'll have to give me some time to absorb it.”  
  
  “Ok.”  
  
  Sheriff Stilinski gestured at the food. “Is this going to a regular event?”  
  
  “Every day, dad.  Every day.”  
  
###

 

  It became a thing. He'd drop Derek's food off and go spend time with his dad.  Sometimes, when Derek wasn't on patrol, the three would eat together. His dad came to terms with everything after a while, though he still struggled with how often Stiles had thrown himself into danger as a teenager.   
  
  Derek looked better. He was more at ease and even smiled sometimes. He lost that tense, stretched-too-tight vibe that he'd had going.  
  
  Stiles had run a couple of assignments in neighboring areas, but he hadn't needed to call in for help from headquarters. Both packs helped out, and Allison came along with her bow. In fact, when Allison wasn't busy, she started helping Stiles watch the news to spot weird activity.  
  
  Stiles helped keep Boyd in business. He'd had his dad's porch fixed and built him a car port. Stiles was thinking about getting double paned glass for the windows, and a new furnace, but Sheriff Stilinski was happy with what he had.  
  
  At Derek's, Stiles took over a whole section of the house for his GT operations. He even had a few rooms set aside in case a group ever was called in. Tim had come down and helped set up the computers and other equipment. He stayed for the weekend and met the entire werewolf population in Beacon Hill's. He slapped Stiles on the back, “Keep this up and you're going to have your own unit. The higher ups have liked your progress so far.”  
  
  “Tim, _you_ are the higher ups. Unless you're going to finally admit that this is a secretly run government agency, I'm pretty sure that you're running the show.”  
  
  “You know that I'll never admit to either, right?” He winked at Stiles. “Seriously, though. Good job. That last hunt was looking ugly and you handled it with no injuries.”  
  
  “None that required medical to be involved, no. As you said, werewolf healing is awesome.”  
  
  Scott wandered into the conversation. “Yeah. He used us as cannon fodder and sent us into the building first.”  
  
  “Hey! You agreed to that! In fact, if I recall, you refused to let Allison and I go first. Next time, I lead!”  
  
  “Like hell you will.” Derek had joined them. “The place was rigged. We could smell it. There was no way we were sending you or Allison in first.”  
  
  Scott responded, “Like I said, cannon fodder!”  
  
  Derek growled at him to shut up as Stiles yelled for Allison, “Hey, Argent! Your hubby wants to send us in to get blown up next time!”  
  
  Scott look betrayed. “Oh CRAP! Stiles...that's just cruel!”

 

  Allison yelled back, “Do I need to get my bow?”  
  
 Scott was frantically waving his hands at Stiles. “Dude! No!”  
  
  “Maybe. What do you think?”  
  
  Allison shot him a grin and gave them all a wink. “It's ok. He'll be good. Won't you, Scott?”  
  
 “God, why are all the humans in my life so evil?” The beta moaned.  
  
  Tim laughed. “You've got good people here.”  
  
  “Yeah. I really do.” Stiles watched Derek bantering with Scott and Allison, and it made him smile. “They're family in the best ways possible.”


End file.
